His wife squeezed his hand. “We both know I was your second, but I’ll take that over not being your love at all.”
“You are my forever love,” Morris said.
“Yes, I know. But Sadie got something I’ll never have,” Norma said without a hint of resentment but with longing in her eyes instead. “She got to see what first love looks like in your eyes, and felt it in your touch. What a devastating loss that she died at twenty years old.”
Morris leaned forward and whispered, “I was eighteen with Sadie, and it hurt so much to lose her so young. But you and I, my love, we have depth you can’t find in youth.”
Was that true? Reese wondered. Was adult love even deeper than youthful love?
Trent had told her that he’d never been in love before they’d met, and she’d seen that in his eyes and had felt it in his touch. Their love had been so powerful that every time they came face-to-face again she felt as if she were reliving all of her firsts with him. The feel of his palm against hers that very first day. The soft press of his lips to hers. And, oh God, the first time their bodies came together with such insatiable passion that they couldn’t even make it to the bedroom.
The tape dropped from her trembling hands.
“Goodness,” Tilly said, obviously startled by the clack of it hitting the floor.
“Sorry.” Reese crouched to pick it up and pressed the tape against her stomach to keep the others from seeing it shake in her hand. “Tell us more about Ritchie, Tilly.”
“I was twenty-seven when I met him,” Tilly said, looking past Reese out the window, as if she were watching a scene unfold before her. “He was thirty-four. He’d been around the block a few times, but I hadn’t dated much. He was a policeman on the other side of the island, and he tried to give me a ticket for jaywalking.”
“Jaywalking? Can you get a ticket for that?” Morris asked.
“I’m pretty sure it was his way of getting my name and number,” Tilly said. “The minute I laid eyes on that man, I knew that he was the one. He was big and burly, not like most men these days, who shave their chests and Lord only knows what else.” She laughed. “My Ritchie was all man, with a deep voice and eyes that looked right into my soul, and when he held me…I knew I’d never find true love like that again.”
Everything Tilly said Reese could have said about Trent. She gripped the chair so tightly her knuckles turned white.
“What about you, Reese? Have you found true love?” Tilly asked as she turned back from the window.
None of them knew about her and Trent. But this morning something inside her broke open, like she’d been holding part of herself closed for so long it suddenly cracked, and the words tumbled free.
“I was in love once, and he was everything.” She pulled out the chair and sat beside Tilly. “Like you and Ritchie, I could feel his love in his touch, see it in his eyes. And when we were together”—she sighed a dreamy sigh—“nothing else existed except this cloud of happiness.”
“Oh, girl, you have been touched by love.” Tilly touched her arm. “And what happened with this man?”
“I’m not really sure. I think he got a little lost.” She paused for a moment, then added, “We both did.”
Tilly patted her hand. “Well, honey. You know that old saying, ‘If you love someone, set them free’?”
“Yes.” That was just what she’d done when she’d left ten years ago. Tried to set them both free because she’d been sure there was no other way.
“Well, sweetie, if you ask me, love doesn’t get set free. Love lingers. Love haunts. Love consumes.” Tilly leaned in close and her tone grew even more serious. “Love isn’t easily dissuaded. It doesn’t go away when one of you dies, and it certainly doesn’t go away when one of you moves away. It’s like a boomerang. No matter how many times you toss it away, it always comes back.”
Chapter Seven
TRENT SAT IN the basement of the Rockwell Resort meticulously sorting through archived legal documents. There were at least a dozen boxes spread across the floor. He’d been at it for two hours, and he’d found documents dating back several generations, but what he hadn’t found was the paperwork to transfer the deed. The cold concrete walls and the scent of musty old papers was a world away from where he’d been a few months ago, when he’d have sent an assistant to search through files. He didn’t mind doing the grunt work, however. Especially not today, when he needed some time to really think about Reese. He could swear that last night in the parking lot, when she’d squeezed his hand, he’d seen so much emotion in her eyes. Regret. Longing. Desire.